


Rebel x Captain = Shake-Up

by SleepyKalena



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: American Politics, Boba Shop AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Modern AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romantic Comedy, Shoujo AU, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 03:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18044510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyKalena/pseuds/SleepyKalena
Summary: (aka: ジンキャシに任せて！シャカシャカで直すっ！)It's 2016. Cassian Andor is trying to move on up. Jyn Erso is just trying to moveon. When Jyn applied to work at Café Whills, a boba shop in Koreatown, all she wanted was to pay the bills, make ends meet, and actually (eventually) get a degree. But with Cassian's uptight, almost militant management style, things aren't looking good for Jyn, who risks losing her newfound job any day in an equally unforgiving city.Chirrut, however, senses something in her, and the two are forced to work together.With luck, the cafe won't implode in the process.[Finally, the Boba Shop AU I've spent more than a year planning]





	Rebel x Captain = Shake-Up

Jyn hated waking up early for anything, except to see the marine layer and breathe in the ocean air.

Well, it _was_ the only benefit to being forced to wake up at this hour.

An 8 am class was annoying as all hell, and the commute to school even more so, but thanks to her overestimation of the Big Blue Bus system, she arrived in Santa Monica with way too much time to spare. Rather than get off the bus and mull around campus, however, she opted instead to ride the bus all the way to the end.

As she stepped off at the Third Street Promenade, she took a deep breath and took in the view. Obviously, there wasn’t really anything _to_ view at this hour- as with most of the Greater LA area, most retail stores wouldn’t be open for at least another 3 or so hours, so the tourists were still asleep. She looked up at the stegosaurus-shaped bush, and for once was finally able to get a good look at it. It was rather cute- though, its proximity to a T-rex-shaped bush was rather unfortunate. Though, in fairness, it was probably more unfortunate that people normally don’t get a chance to really look at it, not with the massive crowds that only seem to use it as a meeting spot and nothing more.

Jyn continued down the path and finally happened upon the gloomy arch welcoming her to the Santa Monica Pier. The blue paint was incredibly faded due to the hundreds of hours of exposure to the unbearably bright California sun, and she was sure the neon lights hadn’t changed since the 70s (or, at least, not their design).

It was surreal to look at the Route 66 sign and not be asked by tourists to move so that they could take a selfie with it.

 _End of the Road_ , it said.

Man, that’s a mood.

She shook the thought away as she wandered to the end of the pier, taking in the gentle splashing of the waves and the cries of the gulls. The salty air filled her lungs and she breathed deeply, welcoming it into her system, letting it revitalize her and remind her of her childhood. Around her was the occasional sound of a fishing line being cast or slowly reeled back in by the local hobbyist fishers. No one spoke to each other- there seemed to be a calm, unspoken agreement in the air: leave each other to their own devices, and enjoy the serenity of the ocean.

The crowds were exactly why she hated being here at all, but this… _this_ she could get used to.

When she had her fill of the ambiance, she happily turned back towards the city, being careful not to trip over the thick, uneven planks of wood.

Once she got to the top of the steep ramp of The Pier, however, the peace was interrupted.

“Hey,” a dirty, haggard man mumbled.

Jyn turned towards the man, slowly, still trying to hang on to the last bit of calm left in her system.

“Got any change?” he asked without waiting for a response.

Her mind finally rebooted and Jyn blinked. “Uh, sorry- I haven’t got any cash on me.”

The man sighed in aggravation and immediately started walking away, mumbling something about how “no one ever fucking has any cash anymore these days”, but Jyn stopped him.

“I have a card!” she shouted back, and the man stopped and his mismatched, patchy clothes swished as he swiveled to look back at her.

“Are you hungry?”

“Just wanted a fucking coffee, man, that so hard to ask for?” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

 _Translation: I need something warm to consume, I didn’t want to ask for much,_ she thought.

She looked off to the east and tilted her head towards the extravagance of the mall in front of her. “Wanna get some McDonald’s? I’ll get ya whatever you want.”

* * *

“You’re a real life-saver, you know that?” the man said with a full mouth. An incredibly large paper cup sat in front of him, and a hashbrown lay half-eaten on the tray. The muffin sandwich had been deconstructed- a habit of the homeless man, it seemed- but despite the appearance of his dirt-caked fingers he took care to gingerly pick up each component and take an equal bite before chewing all of it together in his mouth.

Jyn shrugged. She _did_ have a few extra dollars in her bank account, and it seemed only right that he had something warm to eat in this weather than keep it to herself. If she could get her brand of peace, he could as well, even if it meant buying him an entire breakfast meal instead of just coffee like she anticipated.

She calculated her expenses again to busy her mind and ignore the smell coming from the unkempt man sitting across the table from her. _The man’s breakfast cost about five-and-change, rounded up to six dollars…If I stretch my groceries for another three days, I can still add the same amount of money to my savings without a hitch._

It sounded like a solid plan. And solid plans were good, considering the recent debacles that put her in this position in the first place.

What wasn’t a solid was her sense of time, however.

Jyn pulled out her phone: 7:45 am.

The next bus, if she was lucky enough to run out and catch it, would be leaving in two minutes.

She sprang up from the seat, startling the homeless man, and ran off without a word.

He shouted something back, and it sounded like gratitude, but she’d rather catch the Rapid 7 bus before it left without her.

* * *

On the bright side, she was only three minutes late to class, and the professor didn’t notice her tardiness.

On the not-so-bright side, morning traffic had picked up by the time class was over, and campus was packed. So packed, in fact, that three Rapid 7 buses came, and she couldn’t shove herself into any of them.

She checked her phone for the time again: 10:15 am.

Jyn only had 45 minutes until she was officially late for her first day at her new job; this wasn’t the occasion to be tardy.

 _It’s 2016- you’ve been here for two years already and you_ still _haven’t figured out how to nudge your way into a bloody bus?!_

Enough was enough.

The crowd was picking up again as the next round of buses were spotted in the distance, and she elbowed her way towards the front. Madness slowly descended on the curb and half the people around her towered over her small stature, but she refused to be defeated by them. She took a breath and weaved through them just as the inadvertent tide of humans threatened to push her back. The buses rolled up and came to a stop, and as the doors opened, a small whine escaped from the suspension.

She could see the front door of the bus open and the crowd paved an incredibly narrow path for people to disembark. Jyn was close, _so close_ …

There were only a few students left to sift through and she’d be one of the first to board- that is, until she heard the all-too-familiar beep of the handicap ramp.

A switch flipped in her head and she corrected her course, immediately shifting to the left and making her way towards the side of the bus. She wedged herself into what little space was left between the curb itself and the bus, practically hugging the vehicle the whole way, until the back door was within her grasp. Looking up, she saw that people had crowded in, and there was only enough standing room for half a person. No one else dared to try and board the bus.

They hadn’t met Jyn Erso, however.

As the bus finished kneeling and the ramp folded back up, the crowd at the front of the bus groaned as they realized that the bus had filled entirely from the back door, and the driver closed the doors, with Jyn on the proper side of them.

A crowd of international students glared at her from the outside in sheer jealousy as the bus peeled away from the curb with a heavy groan from its new weight, and she took that with pride.

Clearly, they’d never lived in Japan.

* * *

The bus was entrenched in the morning rush hour (which, given the nature of the city, was about three hours long), and it took 40 minutes for it to arrive.

“Wilshire/Western Station,” the calm, pre-programmed male voice announced as the doors hissed open, and Jyn was the first to bolt out, nearly crashing into an elderly Korean woman passing by.

Jyn’s head pounded in time with her backpack pounding against her back the faster she ran down Wilshire Boulevard, cleverly pivoting around the passersby before making a sharp left on Serrano Avenue.

All that was left was to turn right on 6th.

When the sign for 6th Street was in her view, she glanced up at the traffic lights. Traffic in her direction was still going, and the light was still green.

_Come on…come on…turn yellow, come on…_

She was already pretty sure she was late- at this point it was a matter of minimizing how late she’d actually _be_.

The lights turned yellow. The solid, white walking man in the crosswalk light changed to a blinking, red hand.

_5…_

_4…_

Maybe she wouldn’t be late for work.

_3…_

_2…_

She might actually make it on time after all.

_1…_

_0…_

Jyn’s left leg crossed over her right, and her body leaned slightly as she turned to run across the street, refusing to slow her pace.

The traffic, however, was still going, and a large, black SUV ran a red light and charged straight for Jyn just as her feet hit the asphalt.

Time slowed.

Jyn’s vision blurred as the panic sank in: Would she die here and now? In the middle of Koreatown? On the dirty asphalt under the smoggy skies of Los Angeles? While being broke, alone, saddled with student debt, and no degree to her name? In a country that felt just as foreign to her as any other?

Fuck that. There were better ways to go out with a bang.

And with that, Jyn leapt forward and tumbled just out of harm’s way. She picked herself right back up, ignoring the stinging burn on her elbow from the improper landing, and kept running, leaving the brake screeches and horn honking behind.

* * *

“I’m sorry I’m late!” she yelled as she burst into the store. The walls were a clean, bright white, and the shiny wooden floor sparkled, but despite the warm and inviting appearance of the interior, it was an eerily quiet ghost town, with neither a customer nor employee in sight.

… _Wrong store?_

She took three steps backwards out the store and looked up at the sign above: _Café Whills_.

No, she was _definitely_ at the right place. Hell, the door was open and unlocked. Surely, she was meant to be here.

Jyn stepped back into the store and approached the register, filling the room with the noise of her footsteps. She peered over it, hoping to find someone who had perhaps just bent over and hadn’t noticed her enter, but there wasn’t anyone back there at all.

She looked up at the clock on the wall: 11:05 am.

Maybe her luck was on her side this time, and the person training her was also running late.

Relieved at the idea, she sighed and leaned back from the counter, but felt a looming presence from behind.

“You’re late.”

_Crap._

Jyn turned around slowly and found an unamused Latino man towering over her. His black hair was parted two-thirds of the way over and stylishly disheveled- a common look for guys these days, she noticed- and his thin lips, surrounded by strategically-shaved scruffy facial hair, were turned downwards. She guessed him to be a few years older than herself. His skin was pale, but not as pale as hers (then again, she was paler than most Californians by default). The man was rather lanky, save for the last of the baby fat in his cheeks which made him appear youthful if not for the wisps of weariness and fatigue lurking in his dark eyes, and he looked like he was ready to fire her on the spot for her tardiness, when-

The door burst open and another person came in. “Hi Cassian! I’m late!” he said, rushing down from the front door to the Employees Only section of the cafe.

Mr. Unamused watched the other person- of Japanese descent, by the looks of it- walk into the kitchen area and shove his possessions into the locker, and he sighed. “Justin, I’m supposed to be training the new girl; you can’t come in late and set a bad example.” She noted that these two had perfect Southern Californian accents, and she remembered that her accent would likely serve as a gateway for questions, ultimately leading to the revelation that she doesn’t actually belong here.

“Well,” Justin said as he finished tying the apron around his waist, “I would’ve been on time if it weren’t for the traffic over at the corner over there. Some bitch nearly got herself ran over but she practically barrel-rolled out of the way!” He grinned in amusement. “I was, like, six cars back, but some folks crashed into each other because they got distracted, so it took a bit of extra time to get around them and find parking. LA man, am I right?”

Mr. Unamused- _Cassian_ , she corrected herself- peered at her from the corner of his eyes. He regarded her hair, now disheveled with the bun nearly undone, as well as her cheeks, which she was sure was still flush from all the running, and cocked his head in her direction. “You can ask her all about it when I’m done training her for the day, if you want.”

Justin’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped at the implication. “No way!” he laughed.

The flush on her cheeks, if it ever went away, came rushing back in embarrassment, and Jyn wanted nothing more than to go back in time and restart the day.

“Newbie…what is it, again? Jyn?” Cassian asked distractedly, rifling through a cardboard box.

“Um, yes,” she answered, and was met with a flash of grey flying towards her face.

“You look like a size Small, so here’s your uniform,” he said, and Jyn caught the soft shirt single-handedly before holding it out to get a look at it.

Women’s cut for a uniform? _Gross._

Luckily, Cassian didn’t catch the look of disdain on her face. “I hope you brought a notepad and paper,” he said, “Because training for this job isn’t easy, and if you don’t have it written down in your notes, I expect that you’ve chosen to memorize what I tell you.”

Jyn stared incredulously at Cassian as he walked past her, down the narrow bar space, and into the employees-only work area.

What the hell was his deal? It’s just a part-time job at a boba shop- what was he being so strict for? It’s not like she was going into military training.

“I hope you have a good reason to be on the customer side of the counter!” he barked, and Jyn scrambled to go through the “Employees Only” door to put the uniform over her own clothes, redo her hair bun, stash her backpack in an open locker, and meet him in the work area. Passing the clock above the doorway, she saw the time: 11:15 am.

If this is what 15 minutes of her first shift felt like, four hours was going to be an eternity.

Jyn gulped. She couldn’t afford to lose this job if word got out that she wasn’t allowed to be here. And she certainly couldn’t afford any fines if the government decided to take action. She moved to Los Angeles to start over, and even if she’s had more setbacks than successes since stepping foot in this ultra-congested town, what mattered was that she’s still alive and still _surviving_ , and she wanted to keep it that way.

Cassian’s voice was smooth but stern, and wasted no time beating around the bush. “The easiest and most common thing people order here are the milk teas,” he began, gesturing up at one of three TVs that served as menu displays.

She hadn’t given the menu a good look up until now, and there was a sinking feeling in her stomach when she realized just how many drinks this place served.

“The first three- regular, Jasmine, and Taro Milk Tea- are all pre-made by our kitchen staff, so when customers order these, you only have to worry about ladling them into the cup and sealing them.”

Cassian’s arm lowered slightly and circled the general area underneath the top three drinks. “What you need to worry about today is memorizing the formulas for the rest of these. We’ll start with the next most popular: Honey, Honey Jasmine, Almond, Vanilla, Hazelnut, Caramel, and Irish Cream milk tea.”

Jyn gaped. _That entire list_ was the next most popular?!

“Is your memory so great that you can just memorize everything I’m telling you?” he asked pointedly, quirking an eyebrow ever-so-slightly.

Jyn snapped to attention and rushed back into the kitchen area to grab a pen and paper from her backpack. Beyond that, Justin stood in front of the stove, monitoring a large pot as it filled with water from the overhead faucet. He looked at her and made some attempt at suppressing a smile, but there was no use hiding it- he was greatly entertained by how Cassian was treating her.

“Hey,” she whispered, leaning slightly towards him.

Justin matched her movement, leaning in slightly to hear her. “Sup?”

“Is he…?” she tried to find the right words to use. _“Is he always this strict?” “Is he naturally like this?” “Is he here for the purpose of weeding out people?”_

“Hey, good morning!” she heard a friendly voice from the front of the store. A middle-aged man- likely an office worker, judging by his tucked-in shirt and tie- waved at Cassian.

“The morning’s anything but right now,” the middle-aged man answered with a chuckle, and when she saw his lips move, Jyn realized that the voice she heard earlier wasn’t his, but _Cassian’s_.

There was no way that greeting came from Cassian, right?

“Is he-“ she said again, still unsure of how she wanted to continue.

“Able to flip a switch like that?” Justin asked, trying to finish Jyn’s sentence. “Yeah, he’s real good at it. Pretty damn scary if he has to do it while super pissed at you.”

Jyn gulped. She did _not_ want to be on the receiving end of that.

“Jyn!” an angry voice called out, and Jyn could determine that it was _definitely_ Cassian’s.

“Good luck,” Justin sang airily as she rushed back to the front of the store.

She pursed her lips as she looked back up at her trainer, whose arms were now crossed and the subtle frown returned. He said nothing as she returned, and only continued to stare her down.

 _Say something, say anything!_ She pleaded mentally, bracing herself for an explosion of anger on his end.

Instead, he leaned forward to meet her eye-to-eye.

“Listen here,” he said in a steady, low, warning voice. “I know who you are.”

A shiver shot through Jyn’s spine and she tightened her grip on her pen.

“I know you’re not supposed to be here. I know that _you_ know you’re not supposed to be here. And yet, here you are.”

She tried to keep her breathing steady, but her body was still tense. Maybe if she stayed perfectly still, things wouldn’t get worse. It was a stupid thing to hope for, but, hell, it was _something._

“…But,” he said with a hint of disappointment, “I don’t have the power to fire you. At least not yet.”

He stood back up straight and Jyn’s shoulders sank with relief.

“All new hires are required to go through a week of training, followed by an evaluation.” He eyed her carefully. “Nothing pisses me off more than having to work with spoiled brats who take things for granted and expect things to be handed to them. You’re a poor fit for this job, and there are loads of other people who need the work. The sooner you quit and open up space for them, the better.”

“I…” she started.

Cassian blinked. “Oh, that’s right, you’re out of options, aren’t you?” he asked knowingly. “And that’s why you’re here.”

_How dare you?_

An anger lit from within at the accusation of her character, but try as she might to suppress it for the sake of keeping this job, her eyebrows betrayed her, furrowing slightly. It seemed to feed his self-righteousness, and he smirked.

“Feel free to prove me wrong, though,” he said loftily, and turned his attention back to the menu.

“I’ll repeat the list for you again, so start writing. The following milk teas all have the same formula: Honey, Honey Jasmine, Almond, Vanilla, Hazelnut, and Irish Cream. Caramel is another popular flavor, but the measurements vary slightly.”

He grabbed two different plastic cups from two different stacks next to the ice bin. “We serve two sizes of drinks here: medium and large.”

Jyn absentmindedly cocked her head to one side as she continued to write. “What happened to small?”

Cassian hummed. Apparently the question pleased him. “We have a smaller size, but that’s for another day.

“Anyway, medium and large. Medium-sized drinks for all the milk teas I told you require two ounces of syrup. Large drinks get three ounces. They then get filled with the appropriate unsweetened milk tea. All these milk teas are black-tea-based, so you’ll need to put syrup in the cup, then fill it with ‘No Sugar Milk Tea’, which is in this container,” he said, gesturing at one of the front fridges and sliding the top-right door upwards to reveal two large, cylindrical containers of creamy, beige liquid. Cassian grabbed the ladle from the container on the right and poured the tea back in, letting the drink splash about until he put the ladle back in.

“Honey Jasmine Milk Tea, obviously, contains Jasmine Milk tea, so you fill it with ‘No Sugar Jasmine Milk Tea’ which is in this container,” he said, and he opened the top-left door to reveal two containers of tea, but rather than grab either ladle, he reached over to the small rack nestled just beyond the vats and grabbed a much smaller pitcher of an off-white liquid. “Jasmine Milk Tea is requested far less than anything black-tea based, but for Honey Jasmine Milk Tea, you’ll need to use this pitcher of tea.” He twisted the cap to reveal a label: “NSJM for Honey”.

_No-Sugar Jasmine Milk…for Honey?_

Cassian might have noticed her looking curiously at the label, and he continued talking after a beat. “Make sure you read the labels carefully; we have a ‘No-Sugar Jasmine Milk Tea’ that we use for the standard Jasmine Milk Tea, but it’s not to be used for Honey Jasmine.” He reached over to the right side of the fridge and grabbed another similar looking pitcher from above the vat of regular milk tea. The two liquids looked the same.

“This,” he said, “Is used to reduce the sugar for our Jasmine Milk Tea.” He tipped the pitcher enough to reveal a label at the cap: “NSJ for JMT”

 _No-Sugar Jasmine Milk for Jasmine Milk Tea,_ she figured.

She nodded, writing furiously into her paper. The paper was already half-full of scrawled notes, and if this was supposed to cover half of a subsection of drinks that only comprised of 20% of the menu, she was going to need a hell of a lot more paper.

“Most customers will ask for boba in their drinks though, and you need to factor that in when you dispense the syrups for their drinks. If a customer asks for a medium Honey Milk tea but asks for boba, you have to put in one-point-five ounces of honey, rather than two. For large drinks with boba, you need two ounces instead of three, which is basically the same as a medium without boba. Got it?”

The words took a while to sink in, but Jyn nodded again.

“Good.” Cassian then whipped around and gestured back at the ice bin. “When you make a drink, you grab the proper size cup. Fill it with an add-on, like boba- if they ask for it- then grab this cup to scoop out ice and put it in.”

Cassian proceeded to show her how much boba was appropriate for each cup size, and how much ice was standard. Jyn was meticulous and desperate to get this right the first time, so she hastily sketched out a diagram to help her.

“Next, you add a flavor syrup,” he said, taking two steps to his left, away from the ice bin, past the sink, and over to an array of syrups. Most of them had fruit labels on it- Honeydew, Strawberry, Mango, and so forth- but to the very end of the counter, just before the half-wall that separated the work space from the countertop where the register was stationed, was a rack of the syrups most pertinent to her. “Each pump is a quarter ounce. When that’s done, you ladle or pour the right tea into the cup, leaving just a notch of space under the lip, and load the cup into the sealing machine. Once the sealing is complete, check to make sure the seal is airtight, then shake the drink to mix it.’

The information was starting to travel at a much faster pace now, and Jyn struggled to write everything, let alone contextualize the importance of his lecture.

“So,” he barked again, causing her to jump in surprise.

“If I ask you to make me an Almond Milk tea, medium size, with boba, what is the process in which I’d go about making that drink?”

The sudden quiz caught Jyn off-guard.

 _It’s okay, you can do this,_ she said to herself, and breathed.

Her explanation started off slow. “Grab a medium cup, fill it with boba to about here…“ she paused to mark the height on the side of a cup with her nail, “…then add ice to about here…” she paused again, using her nail to make a similar mark on the cup for ice, “…and then you put in one-point-five ounces of almond syrup-“

“How many pumps is that?” Cassian asked swiftly.

“Um-“

Oh god.

_How many ounces was it per pump?_

Oh, right: _1 pump = 0.25 oz_.

“Six,” she responded.

Cassian quirked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Was she wrong? Did she confuse the amount of liquid dispensed in each pump? Did she get the number of ounces wrong for the drink?

“I-“

“What did you write down in your notes?” he asked sharply.

“One pump dispenses zero-point-two-five ounces of liquid! Medium drinks with boba need one-point-five ounces of syrup! Four pumps for one ounce, six pumps for one-point-five, eight pumps for two ounces, and twelve pumps for three!” she blurted quickly.

The tension thickened as Cassian stopped to eye her.

“Then say it with confidence next time,” he remarked more calmly, and turned back around to look at the front fridge with the containers of milk tea.

Jyn honestly can’t remember having to deal with anyone this strict since she left Japan, and even then, the treatment she faced there was less militant and more subversively quiet.

Part of her started to wonder if she preferred the latter instead.

Training for the remaining four hours was more or less the same: Cassian would bark something, and Jyn would scramble to look at her notes or try to remember the information off the top of her head. Customers came and went, and she was given a string of receipts to practice making drinks with.

It felt simple enough after a while- milk teas with a syrup flavor were easy to make, and if a customer wanted less sugar in the tea, she only had to put in fewer pumps before filling the cup with unsweetened milk tea. The top three popular drinks were even easier- each had their own container of pre-made milk tea, both sweetened and unsweetened, and Jyn felt a sense of ease as she grabbed a cup and ladled unsweetened regular milk tea halfway up, then grabbed the ladle from the vat next to it and ladled the remaining half with regular, sweetened milk tea. It took a few tries for her to drop the cup into the sealing machine before the hot press clamped onto the top of the cup to seal the plastic and cut it in a perfect circle, but after 10 or so mistakes of spilling liquid from being too slow to load the automatic sealer and Cassian barking at her to get the form right, she finally got the hang of it.

“Boba milk tea, half sugar, less ice,” she called, placing the cup onto the “Pick Up” side of the counter.

The customer- a young working professional- smiled and eagerly punctured the top of the cup with a sharpened straw. She took a sip and sighed happily before walking away with a wave. “Thanks!” she said, then looked at Cassian and gave an even friendlier wave and a wider smile. “See you tomorrow, Cassian!” she called, and Jyn was shocked to find Cassian waving back- with a _genuine smile_.

“Take it easy, Miri!” he said with that friendly voice, and Jyn started to wonder which part of him was the _real_ Cassian.

Cassian looked up at the clock. “Huh. Four hours flew by faster than I thought,” he said idly. He turned towards Jyn. “You’re done for the day. Study up and I’ll see you back here tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

He walked towards the kitchen to grab a clipboard and started filling information in some of the boxes on the sheet of paper. “For your knowledge, you’ll be getting paid minimum wage for the duration of your training. Should you prove worthy of being an actual hire, your wage will bump up. And you’re entitled to two free drinks at the end of every shift.”

Jyn lit up. She got to take home not one, but _two_ drinks for free after every shift? Even a measly 4-hour one?

Justin placed a container of boba atop the ice bin. “It’s pretty great after a while, but eventually you get sick of the stuff here, and you wind up giving your drinks out to your friends or roommates,” he chimed in, but then leaned closer to Jyn and lowered his voice. “My advice though? Try a different drink every time. Eventually, when you start working the register, you’re gonna wanna know how all these drinks taste so you can answer customer questions. Plus, it’s good practice in remembering how to make drinks since you’re still training.”

He handed her a large cup that lacked any printed labels. “This is the employee take-home cup. Use this when you make drinks for yourself. Don’t wanna cut into store inventory and all that.”

Jyn hummed as she looked at the menu, contemplating her options. What was good to take home? Regular milk tea? Matcha? Honey Jasmine? Vanilla?

“By the way,” Justin said, now washing the cocktail shakers in the sink and setting them back up on the draining rack. “Cassian mentioned that your application states that you can speak Japanese?”

She nodded, and Justin chuckled.

“いいね、客にもんくあったら誰かと喋られるんだ！” he said with relief, though Jyn noted that his accent carried an American drawl. “I’m the only Japanese guy in the store, and everyone else around me speaks in Spanish or Mandarin whenever they want, but I can’t really pick up on it. I _did_ learn some Mandarin, but they’re only in relation to the menu- I suspect you’ll learn a few words to make your job easier here. You'll feel right at home soon enough.”

Jyn wasn’t really sure what to say- she’d been tense the entire time she was here, and conversing with Justin…

Well, it lifted her spirits a bit, that’s for sure.

“ああ。じゃぁ、宜しくお願いします。” she said shyly, not wanting to sound too eager. It’d been a few years since she spoke it, and it left a strange feeling on her throat and lips, but it was comforting to speak it again after so long. She winced a little- her accent was obvious both in Japanese _and_ in English, considering she was born in the UK, further highlighting her as an outsider here in a city filled with people that largely looked nothing like her, but Justin’s smile worked wonders in soothing her self-afflicted tension.

 _Must be nice to have a place to call home_ , she lamented as she left the store with her two drinks in hand.

Jyn had only taken two steps out the door, however, when her stomach grumbled.

_Ah, crap._

She forgot to eat breakfast this morning, and wound up feeding a homeless guy instead.

Luckily, 6th street suffered no shortage of eateries. Jyn squinted under the sunlight and looked across the street: All-you-can-eat Korean BBQ ( _Out of the question, you_ definitely _don’t have the money for that right now,_ she chided herself), Kyochon Chicken ( _Nope, out of budget, no matter how good their food was_ ), and a number of salons, Kbeauty shops, and another boba shop.

Perhaps the plaza she was in had better food options.

Jyn peered to the left and noticed a family exiting a restaurant, and she walked over.

_Blazing Tofu House?_

The menu was taped along the tall windows, offering a selection of Korean tofu stews and rice plates.

She practically drooled at the thought of warm, bubbly stew and soft tofu. Looking inside, she saw that it was peppered with customers here and there, but based on the number of open tables and the number of black-shirted staff members milling about, it was entirely possible that the restaurant was packed at during dinner hours.

A serene-looking Asian man with a buzz-cut, salt-and-peppered hair sat comfortably at the back booth of the restaurant, sipping happily at the stew as he talked to the staff passing by, a sign that this restaurant also had regulars.

It was a good sign in her book, and she walked in.

“Hey there,” an employee called out. “Any seat you’d like.”

Jyn made herself comfortable in another booth seat at the back of the restaurant, three tables away from the man, so as to enjoy her lunch while taking in the outside view. Her tummy was her food guide today- “Pork belly _soon_ -tofu, mild spice, please,” she said as the waiter dropped off a pitcher of water and a small metal cup, and she checked her phone.

She almost immediately regretted it- several unread messages were from people she wasn’t in the mood to talk to at the moment, and she turned off the screen in annoyance.

“First day at work, eh?” the serene man asked.

Jyn blinked, confusion clear on her face. “How did you-“

She looked down and realized she was still wearing her uniform.

“Ah!” He must have noticed the uniform and, since she was an unfamiliar face, put two and two together. “Yeah,” she admitted.

“How was it?” he asked. “Was it difficult?”

What was the best way to even answer that? “Well…it’s difficult, yes, but I think I can pull through my training.”

He nodded knowingly and laughed. “Good answer, good answer. I like that!” he said joyfully and took another few bites of his food. Jyn noticed the rather peculiar mannerisms he had when eating- he wasn’t looking directly at his food, or anything in particular. His gaze continued to be unfocused, and his head tilted, trying to listen for something, but for what, Jyn had no idea.

“Got you some more water, boss,” her waiter said, replacing the man’s empty pitcher with a new one, filled with ice water.

“Excellent, thank you!” the man straightened up with a grin, reaching for his cup, but got dangerously close to the hot, black, porcelain bowl of stew. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to burn himself, and Jyn bit her lip out of anxiousness at the situation unfolding in front of her.

“Hey, you moved your cup again to the wrong side, didn’t you?” the waiter sighed, grabbing the cup for him and filling it with water. “Chirrut, if you burn yourself on these pots, Baze is gonna fire me, you know!”

“He’s not gonna know, Sam,” the man, Chirrut, said incredulously. “At any rate, I won’t burn myself. I let the Force guide me.”

Sam pursed his lips in amusement, but chose not to express his doubt at Chirrut’s bold statement. “Yeah, yeah, the Force guides you, not your husband.” He set the cup back down with a loud clack, and Chirrut was able to take the cup with better accuracy this time.

It didn’t take long for Jyn’s food to arrive- Sam had set out all the _banchan_ around her, along with a small metal bowl of rice, before placing the flaming-hot porcelain in front of her. The spices wafted in the air, and the soft gurgle of the bubbling stew tantalized her.

Jyn couldn’t wait any longer to dig in.

She picked up the egg next to her bowl of rice and cracked it open over the stew, and the whites quickly cooked in the surrounding heat. If she waited patiently, for just a few minutes, the egg would be cooked with a succulently runny yolk, and she could dig in for a bite of piping hot tofu.

 _Just a couple more minutes_ , she told herself to appease her stomach, and she could practically _taste_ the _gochujang_.

Her patience would soon be rewarded- carefully, she split the wooden chopsticks she was provided, and picked up a bit of bean sprouts from one _banchan_ dish, then a bit of the spicy pickled cucumbers from another, and placed them on her long-handled spoon. Eagerly, she let the spoon dip into the stew, just slightly, enough to gather a piece of tofu, and lifted it towards her mouth.

_And now, we eat._

The tofu jiggled as it entered her mouth, and the intense heat spread through her. She bit down and chewed on the crunchy bean sprouts and cucumber, and tried to suppress a squeal. The spice was delicate, but the savory flavors packed a punch, and the tofu mellowed everything out at the end as she swallowed.

Jyn had left the stress of the real world and entered her own personal realm of comfort.

 _Let’s not forget the pork belly_ , she smiled, nearly giggling to herself as she spooned a small piece of thinly-sliced pork belly and took a bite, then quickly switched her focus to the bowl of rice, which she took a spoonful of while the stew was still in her mouth.

She knew this meal was going to cost her money she had so little of, but she was hungry, tired, and was in dire need of something soothing to brighten her day. The stress of money floated away. School stress? Forget about it.

The militant guy from the boba shop? A thing of the past, for now.

This right here… _this_ hit the spot.

She’d completely ignored the world around her, focusing solely on the sight, smell, and taste of her food, that she hadn’t realized someone had entered the restaurant.

“Ah, Cassian!” Chirrut called out. “How’s the store doing?”

The mere mention of his name yanked her from her realm and back into the icy waters of the real world, and she nearly choked on her tofu mid-bite.

“She’s clumsy and gets flustered. Why did you even hire her?” asked Cassian.

Jyn froze and tried not to call attention to herself.

“Don’t be so harsh, Captain Andor, these things take time!” Chirrut said confidently.

“I’m not too sure about that, old man,” Cassian said casually, and patted him on the shoulder. “Sam!” he called out to the back kitchen. “I’m hungry- can I get a dumpling _soon-dubu_?”

“Got it, Captain!” Sam called back.

Cassian sighed. “Could you guys stop calling me ‘Captain’? This isn’t the military.”

“You sure run the store like one,” Jyn mumbled, but she failed to keep her volume in check, and she saw Cassian freeze and look in her direction out of the corner of her eye.

“Excuse me, _what_?” he asked sharply. He stopped when he noticed Chirrut laughing.

“What’s so funny?” he asked again, this time with mild annoyance.

“Nothing,” Chirrut breathed, coming down from his laughter. “It’s just that it’s nice to know we have someone working at the store that can match wits with you.”

Jyn looked at Cassian and their eyes met; if there was anything the two could wholeheartedly agree on, it was in their sheer inability to get along with each other.

This was going to be a _long_ summer.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Translations:**  
>  いいね、客にもんくあったら誰かと喋られるんだ！ -- _Great! I'll have someone to talk to when I wanna complain about customers!_  
>  ああ。じゃぁ、宜しくお願いします。 -- _Yeah, I guess. Well, it's nice to meet you too._
> 
> Sorry this was a slapped-together chapter. There's a lot of world-building and character establishment that I need, so the chapters will be exposition-heavy for a while, at least until I can establish everyone.
> 
> Btw, this is totally a shoujo manga AU, so ~~get rekt~~ expect **_a lot_** of tropes!


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